Chapter LXXXV: Trapped with the Slumbering Nightmare

 Dim yellow and pale white lights casted away the shadows of the large room under the enigmatic West Yantar complex. The speakers on the walls crackled as electricity entered them for the first time in ages. An old recording begun to play, distorted by static at places:

• Welcome!... Welcome to... ty sevente..., could be heard before it was stopped and a deep, gravely voice replaced it.

• Acedia, you damn idiot, I told you to check that the recorder was empty. Ahem, anyway, welcome stalkers! Since you were so insistent on barging into the middle of our operations, we'll gladly show you what is it we're after here. Too bad for you though, the brain has a built-in self-defence mechanism unlike the holy Scorcher and Miracle Maker. Once it notices you, it will divert pure psychic energy at you at unsurvivable rates. This is the price for nosing around, the voice said mockingly, the speakers shutting down with a prominent electric screech.

• What now?, Boris whispered to Kruglov standing next to him. The scientist shrugged.

• It may be fruitless to try to turn off the machine now. Although..., Kruglov continued in a hushed voice, his trained eyes having picked something up.

• What is it?, Dima asked quietly.

• The Sinners seem to have been trying to remove the machine off its platform. That is most likely why it no longer works properly and why there is no psi-field.

• And that helps us how exactly?, Dima continued questioning as quietly as he could.

• Well, if the machine's inner workings are exposed, I could maybe dislodge some parts to power it off. But I am not sure how well the self-defence mechanism works...

• I'll try to reach it. I've got the fully calibrated psi-helmet, and I already survived a blast from the Miracle Machine at full strength. If I perish, well, think a new plan, if I make it through in this massive suit without it spotting me, you can do so too, Boris said finally.

• I could never ask you to...

• You aren't asking. The longer we keep yapping here, the less likely our chances of survival are. I have survived things like that in the past, I can do so now, Boris commanded in his most authoritarian voice. Kruglov nodded. Boris turned to Dima.

• No complaints? No whining about me diving head first into trouble?

• Not this time Boris. You're right, for once. I think your sawdust-filled skull may very well be our best bet, Dima muttered back with a weak grin.

• Knew that was coming. Well, off I go.

• Good luck, you maniac.

Boris begun his approach slowly, moving with careful steps that utilized the bare minimum of his noisy exoskeleton servos. He could've gone without it, but the upgrades Polymer had added to it could be the reason he had survived the last psi-blast. Now was not the time to put that theory to a test. Every step was agonizingly tense. He could feel the malice of the machine ahead. Boris kept his eyes glued to the monolithic brain, drops of sweat streaming across his face or getting stuck on his brows. Despite the difficulties, he inched his way to the foot of the machine. No death-dealing psi-blows. The brain still slumbered.

Kruglov looked at Boris, who held a thumbs up in encouragement. Letting out a silent sigh, the veteran researcher holstered his drum-fed shotgun and begun the perilous few metres to reach the Redemption leader. Boris could see Kruglov go through similar roller coaster of emotions, all negative ones for sure, as the man crossed the small stretch of land. Midway through his sneaking mission, a humming begun in the machine, and Kruglov froze, his foot midair. Boris could see more and more air bubbles appear in the liquid encircling the massive emitter device. This seemed to reassure Kruglov, who continued on. Boris let out a small prayer for the courage of that man.

After tense seconds that seemed to stretch into hours and days even, the legendary ecologist was beside Boris. They exchanged a look of pure relief, then Kruglov got to work. Boris tried to help to the best of his abilities, but while he had a knack of all sorts of things, disassembling large mad science psi-emitters was not exactly something he was that familiar with. Thankfully, Kruglov was entirely capable of working alone, and while the minutes still remained as anxious for everyone in the room, Kruglov's movement became more and more decisive.

A quiet snap filled the room and Kruglov looked up triumphantly. Sound of a machine being powered down followed suit. The liquid inside the thing no longer bubbled, the brain seemed somehow more dormant. Zakarov raised his Saiga towards the roof in excitement, and Sanyok patted Dima on the back. Even Boris smiled a little. The emitter would claim no more victims today. But the moment of victory was ruined as quickly as it had arrived. The speakers blared to life, this time a new voice appearing in them.

• Well done, infidels, you've served the Great cause well, despite your atheist ways. We were puzzling on how to get that thing out of here without the self-destruct mechanism activating and blowing this whole place up, but you've nicely gone and deactivated it. Now, please die.

The roof blew open, explosives detonating the plates covering it away and opening a view to the open sky. In the glimpsed of the sky between dustclouds and falling rubble, Boris could see that night had already arrived. It was the last coherent thought he had before twelve bullets struck his armour and sent him backwards. Sin troops landed down the hole, firing in wild abandon at the squad. Kruglov retreated towards a door at the very end of the room and pushed it back, the locking mechanism having been damaged in the blast. He waved at the others to follow, and Boris covered them with his machine gun. Bricks and pieces of concrete deflected off his armour while bullets tried their best to penetrate it.

Among the chaos he could see a helicopter appear over the night sky and opened fire to it, but a charging Sin zealot stopped him. The madman rushed at him, firing his AK too close. Boris could feel a round scrape his thigh and turned the barrel of the gun towards the attacker, cutting him down with a swarm of bullets. Dima shouted for him to retreat, and reluctantly, Boris did so as he head his RPD click empty. When he leaped into cover through the door, the last thing Boris saw was the Sinners raising the psi-emitter prototype upwards with cables from the helicopter. A piece of the roof fell down with a groundshattering thump and when the dust settled, the Sin assault party was gone, sound of the helicopter fading into the distance.